Lyrics:
gangster rap, don't like the prankster crap
So I get past all that by kicking straight up facts
There ain't no reason to shoot unless you got beef
If you
could take from you
Need a little bit more than a break from you
Matter of fact, fuck you, don't need you in my life (no)
You done did so much wrong I
blaze up the weed
With me and my cousin
With a little more wet
We finna have the club buzzin'
When I put this thing on you
There ain't nothin' you can do
'em crazy
We off the Relaxic, I'm spilling the gravy
Got every club packed thick, creating a frenzy
To be the latest greatest for all you niggas from
If you're always stealing goodies from a big department store,
You need an analyst, a psychoanalyst
If your pocket's full of little things you
niggaz amaze me
As a matter a fact just salute me and praise me, enough of that
We be up in the club, niggaz sportin' them minks
Tipsy in the club, nigga
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one shot killin ya
It's only one Roc La Familia
Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact
Big Syke, Newt, Hank, Beugard, Big Sir
Y'all know how this shit go
All eyes on me
Motherfuckin' OG
Roll up in the club and shit, is that right?
the club with the counts bitch
Straighten up you gotta focus this
My glass half empty, pour some shit
Matter of fact go ahead and drink that
Couple more
familiar)
Gotta wise, the shit that lame (It all seems so familiar, familiar)
[Krayzie Bone]
I can remember that little nigga when he was just a young
say "Fuck him!" for doing the tracks
Matter of fact, fuck Fat Beats, for doing the wax
I'ma diss you via e-mail and then through a fax
I'ma diss you by
to contend
With the fact that I ain't going nowhere
If I don't get out of here
I need a change of luck and a pick-me-up
Something more than the bars
With the fact that I ain't going nowhere
If I don't get out of here
I need a change of luck and a pick-me-up
Something more than the bars and the beers
Cause I
Was infected by the fact
That I
Could have known all the parts of the One
Of the One
My best friend is riding a cat
Cause I
Was infected by
Hey music man, just play something cool
We love the sunshine to dance by the pool
Down with the crew known to pump up the bass
We rock the joint
chauffer
Told the nigga to spin over by the Club Copa
Watchin' shorty lay as she spread on the limo sofa
She asked the chauffer to stop for a Frappachino
a female, like bap
In fact, I'll have the crowd smackin' you themselves
Where's D12? I don't feel like doin' this by myself, so come on
So what the deal,
of
Another grand larceny pardon me
You niggas ain't even a little hard to me
Shit I spit'll slice you all
Up in yo main artery
For the simple fact we didn't
pieces
Hide my pain where nobody sees it
I'm in the club every motherfuckin' weekend
Fuck on a nigga, then leave while he's sleeping
Sad little bitch,
swear, I'll never do you wrong
Hand in hand, heart to heart
Nothing in the world could separate the two
And even though you've only known that person
to these shows
And these hoes know to get in
Said they like my fitted clothes
Down to my split ends
But little do she know, I got a big ego
Automatic weapon,
[Lilscienz]
Yo, freestyles, reside to the e-ventually
You might see me, kick the spree
Get the tape in the Benzi box
Up in club spots
On a regular
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